


mommy

by Askance



Series: Terrible Things [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Experimental Style, Gen, Horror, Young Winchesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 10:59:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2545136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askance/pseuds/Askance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is something in the trunk in the attic of Big House.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mommy

We like to live in Big House. At Big House we do not go to school. Daddy says they will ask us questions we're too young to answer. He says he is too busy to take us there and back again.

 

We call it Big House because to see the points of the roof we have to tip our heads back and open our mouths, and then we feel dizzy, and we feel like it will fall down on us and crush us. We see it best when we are lying in the grass, but we don't do this much, because the grass is dead, scratchy, full of bugs.

 

Daddy tells us to explore. He tells us to learn to like it here. It is so big that sometimes, the first week, we get lost. There are crawlspaces just big enough for us. Little square holes in the walls. They seem to go on for miles. They are our secret tunnels. Sometimes we crawl as far back as we can, until the ceiling bends down to meet the floor, and there is no room for our heads, and we make up stories, about what could be back there, behind the secret walls.

 

Some rooms are locked in Big House, but Daddy has shown us how to open locks with bobby pins and paperclips. Some we go in, and they are empty, full of clouds of dust, windows painted shut, rusty doorknobs. Some we don't go in. If we lay our heads down on the floor, and breathe the air underneath the door, and it smells funny, or makes our hair stand up, we leave it alone.

 

We have no neighbours in Big House, but we don't mind it. When Daddy is gone, he locks the doors, and we play hide and seek for hours, and if we are quiet, we can hear the wind, and see the clouds going over the sky, but there is no other sound, and it's like dreaming.

 

Our room is at the very top. In our room there is a door to the attic. We have not gone in there yet.

* * *

 

We live in Big House for two weeks, and then we are bored. We have seen all the rooms that are good to open. We have even climbed out the very top window, in our room, and sat on the ledge of the roof, and pretended we were mountain-climbers. It gets lonely very fast when all there is is us and lots of sun on the floors.

 

Sometimes we watch a family from down the road coming home from school. Their mommy is beautiful. We can see her from across the street. Her hair is blonde, just like our mommy's. She keeps it pinned up under a hat. Her children skip behind her like ducklings.

 

One day we decide it is time for the attic, but our bobby pin breaks off in the lock and we go downstairs to listen to the old standing radio instead.

 

What is up there, we wonder to each other.

 

Daddy sleeps far away downstairs at night. We stay up late with flashlights and comic books, making tents over our heads with blankets and arms.

* * *

 

We open a few of the funny-smelling rooms that make our hair stand up, eventually. There's no TV in Big House. Nothing but the radio, and the radio is all commercials. The sky is grey now. Hide and seek is old news.

 

In the funny-smelling rooms there is nothing really wrong, but we still don't like them. They make us sad and we want to cry. There is a bed in one but we will not look under it. We have a feeling something is under there.

 

Big House is not haunted, we say to each other. It is not scary like the houses on TV. The sun comes in when the sun is out in the sky, and the doors don't creak. We think maybe some houses just have bad rooms, and we leave them alone after that.

 

We stay up late fishing the bobby pin out of the attic door. When it finally comes out we decide, Tomorrow. Tomorrow we will go into the attic, and see what's in there.

 

In Big House it is hard to feel as little as we are. We feel like adventurers. We are not scared of anything.

* * *

 

We get up early and Daddy pours us orange juice. He tells us we're being real good, and promises we'll leave Big House soon. Daddy doesn't like it; that's what we think. We don't know why. We love it here, mostly. There's no school here, and no rules, and no neighbours. We don't want to leave.

 

He says, You boys be good now. Then he goes.

 

There is a window in the attic—we know this. We see it when we tip our heads back outside to see the top of the roof. We lift up the curtains to see how bright it is outside. The sun is shining. We'll have light, we say to each other.

 

This time we are careful with the bobby pin and this time the lock clicks open. We click our tongues to imitate the sound. _Snick._

 

The attic makes us sneeze. There's something funny about it. The hall is narrow and small and we have to stoop, cover our mouths with our hands. The hall is dark but then it opens, and there is the attic, big, lit up, the sun pouring over the thick dust on the floor.

 

We jump up and down, stomp around, to watch it make clouds in the air. We cough, and stand, and look around.

 

It is so quiet up here we can hear each other's hearts beating. 

 

Everything is up here. We wonder how long it must have taken for these chairs and trunks and boxes to be carried one by one through that tiny stooping hallway. We know the thing by the window is a dress form. It looks like a birdcage.

 

We open boxes first. They are boring. They are nothing but clay pots and things wrapped in yellow newspaper. We find some forks in one and use them to draw lines in the dust on the floor.

 

We shove open the window. It swings like the window of a ship. We climb up on the big trunk underneath it to see out. We scoop up handfuls of dust like grey snow and drop them out the window and watch the wind blow them away out of our hands.

 

The big trunk groans when we kneel on it and kneel off of it. We wonder what's in there.

 

We use our bobby pin but the lock is hard. It takes a long time. 

 

The lid is very heavy but we push it up, together. We are careful of our fingers. We don't want to break them if the lid falls. It creaks and squeaks and we think of pirate movies and buried treasure. This is a pirate's trunk, we think. We wonder what could be inside.

 

The lock scrapes against the wall when the lid goes up.

 

Inside there is a lady.

* * *

 

We do not tell Daddy about the lady. We are scared that if he knows he'll take us away from Big House forever, to somewhere with school, and rules, and rain. He makes us spaghetti when he comes home and burns the sausage but we don't say anything. He is very tired and goes to sleep in his big chair soon after.

 

We tiptoe in to kiss his cheeks and then we scurry up the stairs like mice to find our flashlights.

 

We go down the stooping hall. The trunk is still open. Everything looks bigger in the dark, and everything has shadows. When we walk on the dust it doesn't make any sound.

 

We say, we need to get the lady out of the trunk, we need to get her out, so we can see her. She isn't very heavy. She weighs about as much as us. She is all curled up and dry. Her skin feels like paper. She doesn't say anything to us.

 

We sit the lady down in the corner, and then we sit down with her. We shine our flashlights on her face, but not in her eyes. The light would hurt her eyes.

 

We think she looks a little bit familiar. She is wearing a dress and the dress is white. It has crumbly lace on the sleeves, at the throat. She has yellow hair, and more white lace in it. It is long and dusty. It falls on her chest. Her arms are crossed over her belly. Her skin is the colour of a dead leaf, and feels like one, too, when we reach out gently to touch her. Her eyes are black spots.

 

Her knees are pulled up. All her teeth are showing. We wait for her to thank us for taking her out of the trunk, but she doesn't say anything. She doesn't move, but we can tell she is very beautiful.

 

We decide she looks a little like our mommy.

* * *

 

When Daddy goes to work we go up to the attic every day. Sometimes it is sunny, sometimes it is cloudy, but there is always enough light. We bring the lady food but she doesn't eat it. It starts to get chilly up there so we bring her a blanket and cover up her dry arms. We think she is smiling at us. We think she is probably grateful. That is how it feels.

 

The attic doesn't feel so funny anymore, with the lady out of the trunk. We like to be with the lady, and we think she likes to be with us. 

 

We bring her our picture books and put them in her lap, and lean against her, and hope she will read to us. She doesn't, but sometimes we fall asleep there. She smells like attic dust and flowers. We found some petals in her trunk, old and dry, like her.

 

We decide she must have been lonely, cooped up in the trunk so long. Maybe that is why she doesn't talk and doesn't move. She doesn't remember how. We hope we are making her happy. 

 

She makes us very happy.

* * *

 

Daddy asks us what we do all day. We tell him that we play hide and seek. He asks if that is getting boring. He asks if we are ready to move out of Big House.

 

We tell him no. No, we are not ready. He thinks we are just being stubborn but we are feeling panicky. We can't leave the lady. What will she do without us?

 

We think too much about this and it makes us upset. When Daddy has gone to sleep we crawl into the attic with our blankets and our pillows, single-file, and we make beds in the dust next to the lady, and we keep her company. We sleep in there with her, so she won't be lonely.

* * *

 

We miss our mommy every day. We don't remember her except for photos Daddy keeps in his wallet. 

 

The lady never scolds us like Daddy does. She is always there when we want her. She patiently holds our picture books and watches for monsters while we sleep on the floor next to her. She is always smiling. We feel good when we are with her. We think she loves us.

 

We don't mean to call her _Mommy,_ but we do. We talk to her so often. We tell her about the weather. She watches us play with our army men. When Daddy makes us cry there is room under her blanket. 

 

We think, if we could just stay here in Big House, she could be our mommy, really and truly. We would tell Daddy about her, and he would see how good she is. We would bring her downstairs, and sit her in a chair, until she learned how to talk and move again, and then we could be a family. She even looks like our mommy, we would say. See her yellow hair.

 

We think that Daddy could love her the way he loved our mommy. And when she learned to move again she could give us hugs and smiling kisses.

* * *

 

Daddy says we are leaving Big House soon. In the next few days, he says. We cry and cry and he doesn't understand why. He says, what are you crying for? But we cannot tell him about our new mommy. We go up to the attic and spend whole days with her. We promise her we won't ever leave if we can help it. Her smile looks sad these days.

 

We help her move her arms so that we can crawl underneath them. She is very cold but we feel very safe.

 

We love you, we tell her. We kiss her cold dry cheeks. We love you, Big House Mommy.

 

We promise each other we will never put her back in her trunk. If we leave, we say, we will come back and see her every chance we get.

* * *

 

When Daddy makes us leave Big House we stand in the scratchy grass and tip our heads back and open our mouths to see in the attic window. The wind is cold. It makes our faces hurt and our eyes sting.

 

We don't want to go. We spent all night with Big House Mommy trying not to let her know that we were leaving. We fixed up her yellow hair and tucked in her blanket. She looked so sad. We think of her up there in her corner all alone.

 

Daddy calls us to the car and we go. We are missing her already. When we are in the car we crowd up to the window to get a last look at Big House.

 

We almost make a noise when we see, but we don't. We are smart. So instead we press our hands against the window so that Big House Mommy can see us waving goodbye. She is standing in the window looking at us with her black spot eyes. We can see her toothy smile and her yellow hair. 

 

She is standing! 

 

She must love us very much, to be able to stand up to say goodbye. 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!
> 
> Loosely inspired by "The Bride" as told by Alvin Schwartz.


End file.
